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"That seems generous." I felt oddly resentful. "So, you're not just a renter?"
"No. And I thought it was generous, too. Do you remember your mother being interested in art?"
"Yes. She used to take us to museums on the weekends. It was always art and music, sometimes both at the same time. I loved the music more than the art. She played the violin, and she was my first teacher. After she died, I kept on playing. I felt like the music connected us." My gaze drifted to the violin I'd put on the table. "I guess she still plays."
"She's very talented," Kade said. "I don't know if she ever performs professionally, but I often hear her playing late at night. She's good."
"I used to hear her play at night, too. It was such a beautiful sound. But it also felt lonely, yearning… At least, that's how I remember it, and how I feel when I play."
"You're a musician, too?"
I didn't really know how to answer that question. "Sometimes. Did she ever talk about her family?"
"Laura told me she didn't have any family. She said she regretted that, that family was the most important thing in the world. She became quite sad, so I didn't pursue the conversation."
His words made me angry. "She had a family. She walked away from us. And we grieved for her. How could she hurt us like that? How could she let her husband and her children think she was dead?"
His expression turned grim. "I don't know. What about your father? What does he say?"
"I haven't been able to reach him. But he's the one who told me and my sister that our mother had died. I can't believe he wasn't duped, too. But I guess I don't know for sure." I changed the subject, not wanting to think about my father possibly being a liar, too. "What about my mom's friends? Did she have any? Did she have a boyfriend?"
"She has had people over a few times. I ran into a man leaving early one morning, but I don't know his name. Sorry. I wish I could tell you more. Do you have her phone? You could probably start there if you can access her contacts."
"I looked in her contacts, and she only had a couple of numbers, which seemed odd. I have hundreds of numbers in my phone, people I haven't seen for years. Why did she have so few?"
"I don't know."
"The police still have her phone. They're contacting everyone. They don't seem to have learned much in the hours since she was shot. The detective I spoke to said they don't have any witnesses or cameras showing the shooter, just my mother falling to the ground. They've spoken to her employer, but no one seems to know of any threats she might have received."
"Maybe it was random."
"Inspector Greenman doesn't think so. He believes the person was waiting for her and knew how to avoid the cameras." As I talked, I realized I was answering more questions than Kade was, and it gave me pause. I didn't know anything about this man. I didn't know what his relationship to my mother was. Hell, he could have shot her from this very building.
Anxiety ran through me as my imagination went into overdrive. I told myself to calm down. Kade hadn’t been anything more than helpful, and he was the only person I could talk to who knew my mother, or at least knew the woman she was now.
"What's she like? Personality-wise?" I asked.
"Laura is friendly. She always has a smile on her face," Kade said. "She's easy to talk to, but she also seems private. Our conversations never go deep, unless we're talking about art, but that's not personal to her, only to me." He paused. "She doesn't seem like the kind of person who would pretend to be dead and run out on kids and a husband."
"But that's what she did."
"She must have had a reason."
"I can't imagine what reason could justify faking her death. But I need to find out why she left." I paused. "I was going to go to a hotel, but maybe I should stay here tonight."
"I'm sure your mother wouldn't mind. Not if she told the nurse to call you. So, what's your story?" Kade asked. "I know you live in Carmel. What do you do?"
"I run a clothing boutique with my sister." As I relayed that information, I realized that for the past several hours, I'd completely forgotten about the job offer and the big change my life was about to take.
"Why didn't your sister come with you today?"
"I didn't tell her what happened. She's in the early stages of a high-risk pregnancy, and I didn't want to upset her until I knew what was going on. I thought I would come here and find out it was all a mistake. But it's not. I should be happy my mother is alive, but then there are so many questions."
"That's rough," he said.
"You have no idea."
"I have some idea. Not the part about your mother coming back to life, but I know what it feels like to lose a parent. I was four when my father died."
